


extraordinary

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: rareprompts [22]
Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, Haruka introspection, M/M, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rei pours his all into everything, and then some.</p><p>It's a mathematical impossibility, this 110% that he gives, but Haruka, who's lived a life gracefully sidestepping the confines of logic, doesn't see anything strange about it. If <i>strangeness</i> is the issue, Rei's a strange creature, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	extraordinary

**Author's Note:**

> For Val, who asked for ReiHaru fluff. There's... some literal fluff in this haha I TRIED :) hope you like it! I enjoyed writing these two from Haru's POV, since I feel like Rei's is probably the easier side to explore.

_I can't wait to be ordinary._

It's a refrain he knows well, the child prodigy turned teenage genius. In the daytime, he avoids the fierce gaze of the sun and the expectant looks that others give him; at night, he counts himself to sleep with the years yet to come.

He keeps this up till he's seventeen, and then the fragile illusion breaks.

 

//

 

He kicks his legs up in the water, lightly; watches the ripples rise to the surface, looks at the new boy and wonders what he's struggling so hard for. He's not going to complain, because this club needs that fourth swimmer, but -

_why?_

He could leave so easily. He's already got pole vault, and he's good at it. There's no reason for him to stay here, to wreck himself over something that's bringing him so much grief.

 _Teach him to swim, Haru-chan,_ pleads Nagisa.

Haruka, hiding beneath the shade of his towel, looks away. _No,_ he says. _That requires effort._

Still, he can't help but steal another glance as Rei sinks again and his head comes up, gasping. And he wants to say, _don't try so hard._

But what does Haruka know about effort, or about trying, anyway?

 

/

 

Rei pours his all into everything, and then some.

It's a mathematical impossibility, this 110% that he gives, but Haruka, who's lived a life gracefully sidestepping the confines of logic, doesn't see anything strange about it. If _strangeness_ is the issue, Rei's a strange creature, anyway.

 _Why did you do it?_ he asks, weeks after.

They're by the pool, and summer's fading. Beyond them lies the sea, gentle waves crashing as the tide comes in. Haruka remembers what happened the last time Rei went overboard.

This time, it wasn't anywhere near as dangerous. It only brought them disqualification, but - _still_.

 _You worked so hard,_ he says. _Rei - you…_

Words don't come easily to him. He wants to give voice to the gratitude that he feels, reach down deep into the well of his emotions, but _thank you_ isn't quite enough; it never is.

And Rei inclines his head with a smile, leans over the railing and lets the setting sun light up his face. Haruka, with his artist's eye, thinks that his cheekbones are finely drawn, shadows falling in all the right places across his jawline.

 _Because I wanted you to be free,_ he says.

_You mean Rin?_

_Rin-san, yes - but you, too, Haruka-senpai. You're most beautiful when you're free, after all._

Had he said it merely two months ago, he'd have flushed red, turned his gaze to the ground. He doesn't, now. His sincerity's finally won out over that old self-consciousness.

Haruka, feeling himself go warm, turns back and dives into the pool for one last lap.

 

/

 

He thinks back to his old wish. The yearning to be normal, to be like everyone else; the dull ache of never knowing what _ordinary_ was.

He'd painted it rose red in his mind. Thought about it like another trophy to be won, from the careless grasp of fate. Another milestone to cross. He'd never asked his grandmother -

_so what comes after twenty, then?_

Looking at Rei, Haruka thinks that maybe, now, he has some sort of idea.

One day, Rei gets it into his head that he's going to bake cookies. None of the ones they sell in the mall are good enough, he declares, eyes shining behind his glasses; would Haruka-senpai be so generous as to give him a good recipe? Because he tried one on his own, and it tasted _terrible_.

Haruka obliges, wondering how difficult it can be to follow a cookie recipe.

One day, they're passing by the school pond in spring. The wildflowers are blooming, and Haruka hears a chorus of tiny peeps coming in their direction.

Rei bends down, and Haruka follows suit, putting his hands on his knees. They're cute, the little yellow-feathered balls of fuzz. Haruka can see their webbed feet, paddling earnestly beneath the surface; trying, trying their best to keep up with their mother.

 _We should bring some bread next time,_ says Rei earnestly. _It's hard for early broods like this to survive - the weather's still a bit cold, sometimes…_

Haruka watches in silence as one of the ducklings turns its face up to Rei, beak opening slightly as it lets out a small chirp. As if it understands.

Rei's murmuring under his breath. _Not that Iwatobi cream bread Nagisa likes. That has zero nutritional value. Wholemeal._

And Haruka smiles, quietly.

 

//

 

He's never had to _try_ for anything, and he's never thought of that as a blessing, or a curse, either way. He's never really thought about it at all.

Now, he understands better.

When you're ordinary, things don't land in your lap so easily. So you strive. Your heart grows thirsty. And your reaching spills over, into every part of your life; it rewrites the boundaries of your freedom, because you always believe things can be better, and you make it so. A victory's all the more precious when it's hard-won.

Being ordinary, as it turns out, is its own kind of extraordinary after all.

 


End file.
